not guilty
by chaos-music
Summary: I am a defendant. I am my own lawyer. I prepared my defense. I call myself to the stand. ;; post-re Cycle


I intended to use the information as not a weapon, but a catalyst. I changed something with those two names I held in my hand. I was under orders to. Two lines of type, font size 6, rounded at the edges, fit into the light blue LED screen. Kanji and katakana, precise and not, meaningful and not really.

* * *

_I flip my phone shut_

* * *

Their given names were bad puns and their family names cheesy fortune-cookie symbolism that better belonged in a trashy fantasy/romance novel written by a fool who didn't know cliché from intelligence. But I knew who I was hunting now, even if they deserved better monikers than what they were stuck with. Precocious and highly skilled, robotic and human, real and not. Well, the kid was precocious and highly skilled. The robot, not so much.

* * *

_stuff myself into my uniform, shit. I hate formal wear. Blend in to the mini-mob of high-class thrill seekers at a crime scene. Why don't they just get in a fight themselves? Walk farther, past the roped-off area, to the playground some 2 kilometres away._

* * *

My mind processed the information into neat little lines of code and accessed the 1s and 0s, forming pixels that squashed into other pixels and then formed them, tall and short, pink and blue, in stoic black and white outfits that looked prettier than mine – feh. But laughing, smiling at each other. Not suited for a fight. I was, and am, .01, predecessor of .02 and CV01 and all the rest. My instincts were, and are, designed to be simple and straightforward. No messing about with overcomplicated programs and applications and updates, no added packages. .01 has simple directives and simple commands that trigger simple actions. This is why .01 is the easiest LOID to handle.

* * *

_There they are, those silly children. Blue-black hair, darker than my mission buddy's. And what the hell, hers is floral pink? Or is it coral? Peach? Like I care, though. It's all going to turn red, anyway. She'll break easily and we'll win._

* * *

They were expendable, at least, the girl maid was. Her name was the first on the screen, glowing faintly with black fluorescence top more blue fluorescence. She was holding the boy's hand, all motherly and loving. Fuck motherly. Fuck loving. These things do not add up in the mind of .01. Again, the maid was expendable. You yourselves agreed.

I intended to use the information programmed into my hard drive as a weapon, not a catalyst. Information on when to duck, strike, block, evade, sneak behind them, counterattack. I was under orders to. Endless strips of code on blue screens that blur slightly when I focus. Numbers and words command, precise but varied, practical, sort of.

* * *

_She cries out in surprise and her kid cries out in surprise and my eyes hurt from staring at their names on the screen. LCD phones drive me mad, I swear, too much bright white inhuman ungodly light. And now my ears are gonna hurt too. I feel my knives in my pocket and run at them, slashing. Someone calls at me for being too hasty, but I want to get this over with._

* * *

What's not practical is my uniform, but I pull of thigh-highs and garterbelts damn well. And hey, CV01 had to deal with an office suit with a miniskirt. But that's not the point here. I was using the information I had as both weapons and catalysts. The names matched the images which in turn matched the directions I was given concerning the identities of those who owned the names. The end result was satisfactory for a good twenty years. .01's simplicity is efficient. I am repeating this because it needs to be repeated that I had orders and used the information according to the orders. I am repeating this because it needs to be said many times that I did not fail in this expedition. .01/MEIKO succeeded.

* * *

_The kid's whining and sobbing and the maid's reaching to him, fighting through people and slipping on the floor, how pathetic. Insufficient, inefficient, she's hopeless. I flick my wrist and drive my knife into her legs, at the kneecaps, right through them. She can't bend her knees, she can't run, I figure. Not with blades wedged right where the cartilage is. Her dress rips when she tries to get up again and I whirl and stab her in the arm. Right through the elbow. I have a thing for joints today. _

* * *

Again, I used the information as processed. I did away with the maid, didn't I? She was a weak little nothing. Unimportant except to the boy, who wailed for her for three months before he got over it. Her body was rebuilt as needed by some genius bastard who found he could fix up dead robots. And she was marketed back to the boy, who recognised her. CV03:recycled/LUKA was back in that damn brat's life and how should I have known about that?

My orders, as filed in my memory banks, read _incapacitate the maid and take the boy. _Date - 02|11|19; given objective #2339, authorised by LOID HQ and under the direct orders of Leon, of the Zero-G department. .02 and I were loaned to Zero-G by Crypton for that assignment and I did not shame the name of Crypton that day. Repetition required? _I did not shame the name of Crypton that day. _.01 has failed only once since her beta run and that was recorded on 09|12|29.

* * *

_My knife goes straight into the wall behind her and when she lifts her arm, it breaks, and she gasps. Stupid girl. Her skirt is torn and her leg is falling off at the knee. I've done enough here, so I leave it up to .02 to finish her and I turn to the kid. He whimpers like a dog that's been kicked and stepped on. I'll show him kicked and stepped on. My foot sinks into his stomach and he gasps too. Are their reactions synced or something? Sheesh. I step harder and wait until he stops squirming._

* * *

Occasionally I have gone out of bounds, yes. The lines are black and white in my head, but out there they're blurred and overlap into grey, so I have to adjust accordingly. I broke a few of that kid's ribs, yes, but it made sure he didn't run away. By the time I let him up he was way too damaged to even crawl, but fuck it, he did. Went right up to that maid and cried. She smiled at him and told him to "wait for her, she'd just take a nap now". Feh. More saccharine shit that went with their prophetic names. But in the end, I got the boy, the maid was a broken heap on the floor. I achieved the objectives, word for word. Just because I usually equate "incapacitate" with "kill" doesn't mean I always do. I went with "impede circuitry from functioning" this time. Orders followed.

I have repeated this upward of five times by now. _The objectives of the assignment were fulfilled._

.01/MEIKO filed this mission under complete when I brought the boy home to his darling daddy and the kid was locked up and treated by some medic. If the kid's dead now, it's not because of me. Or .02. Don't you dare blame .02. I've scanned his objectives and his were the same as mine. You can't blame us for letting CV03:recycled survive; she was as good as dead when we left her there. She going berserk was not our doing. Whoever rewired her neural circuits must have done a bad job

_["pain":registered]_

_[accept?( y/n_)]_

_**(N)**_

.01 acknowledges your concern over my lack of trust in your ability, Sir, but face it – she was batshit at that time and she still is.

* * *

_carrying that stupid kid across the city, damn, will he stop hitting my shoulders already? He screams for Luka and coughs up blood because of his ribs. Why can't he just wise up and stay still? My red nails are already chipped with slapping him to shut the hell up. _

* * *

Standing there in her old maid uniform and smiling and asking "Master" if he wants some juice and aren't the proceedings boring for a child like him – the kid's dead_, Luka_, face it. And it wasn't me who killed him. I'm colour coded with red, but it's you who actually spilt his blood.

Besides, you never told me I had to keep the brat alive. You just told me to bring him. Eliminating Luka might have prevented this from occurring, but it was required foresight that none of us present had. Ergo, it is not the fault of the mission team that the child died a few decades later.

* * *

_Bring him in the room, nice curtains here. I set him on the floor and tell him to quit whining and be a man. The doc will see to him soon. Given objective #2339 moves from {in progress?} to {completed!} and the circles whir inside my head, saving the action. There. Done. Get me out of this shithole. _

* * *

I used the information on that LCD screen as appropriate to the situation; I am not to be blamed.

* * *

_More fighting for my asshole master who doesn't even recognise how superior us LOIDs are to humans. Duels, duels. We're mechanised prizes, fighting machines. We're bodyguards, security guards. We're brawlers. We're cops. We're assassins, cos y'know, no-one ever makes us do silly fun shit like SING. I step up and reach for my knives and slash. More names on my phone that won't exist after I'm done. _

* * *

I was as surprised as you were when I saw her recycled body. Even you thought she was broken beyond repair. Even you should get by now that I'm not responsible for this tragedy. The loss of Crypton's most promising android designer – hey, even I'm mindblown. Don't give me that look, CV03:recycled, you know he's gone too – oh wait, you don't. And don't throw that lance at me or act like you don't recognise the name. Wasn't your lance confiscated anyway? How'd you get it back, kill another "threat to Master"?

Oh look at me, all redundancy and low taunts. I shouldn't need to do this.

* * *

_Shit, she's back. She's back, that salmon-pink girl, but her movements are a lot more fluid now, and her eyes read different code than they used to. And she can shatter my knife with her lance. I duck and come up behind her, lunging with the other two knives I have in my hand. And she turns and drives that lance through my stomach, cool as you please. _

_["intense pain":registered]_

_[accept? (y/n_)]_

_No way in hell. I have my circuitry spilling out of me through a hole in my stomach but I go for her anyway. I kick her arm and hear it snap – take that, bitch- and continue the motion until my foot chops her arm in half – déjà vu, Lulu? But she's still got her other arm and I'm dying, so I pick up my knife and go for her head, right where her central wiring is._

_I don't get there. _

* * *

I really shouldn't, because this case does not need arguing. You'd think a bunch of highly intelligent scientists would know how to use logic. Back then, during the Mechanowars, I didn't even touch her central wiring when we battled. She took me out before I got there. I am shelving my pride and telling you that I did not manage to kill CV03:recycled during Duel #009 of 09|12|29. Neither did I manage to seriously harm her or mess with her circuits. I was repaired and sent back to work with a black check next to my name, but the point is I had no hand in the deterioration of her system.

I don't get how I have yet to convince you that I'm not responsible for the kid's death. I did my job. You scanned my memory banks and replayed videos of that day. You reviewed my objectives. You're all just stupid fucks who want a scapegoat, and if she's not human, it's all the better for you.

_["pain":registered]_

_[accept? (y/n_)]_

_(N.)_

I am charged with being an accessory to that kid's murder, to causing the deterioration of Lulu-chan's system, and for insolent insubordination. I plead guilty for the last, but I am innocent of the first two. CV03:recycled should be charged for the kid's murder, but you just don't have the guts to break it to her, do you?

That's it. I'm done with this. My speech was crap anyway. Too much going tangent off the topic and repetition, but that's only because you shitheads needed to have this repeated.

Oh, go ahead, zap another electric shock my way. I'm just another obsolete android to you. I don't care anymore. My reputation won't allow me back on the field and you're going to trash me as another failure.

.01/MEIKO is not a failure.

I will repeat this as well.

.01/MEIKO is not a failure. .01/MEIKO is not a failure. .01/MEIKO is not a failure. .01/MEIKO is not a failure. .01/MEIKO is not a failure. .01/MEIKO is not

_["intense pain":registered]_

_[accept?(y/n_)]_

_(Y.)_

There goes my right arm. Yep, I've been fighting the pain signals, why not? Too much rebellion?

I now rest my case, scientists. I'm tired of talking. Send me to hell if you want to, but remember that .01/MEIKO _was not responsible for your mista_

.

.

_["termination" command:registered]_

_[proceed? (y/n_)]_

_(y.)_

_. to be uninstalled_

__program shutdown:initiated_

* * *

**based on re_Cycle, a very cool Luka song. that song is so badass I don't even. especially when they all came out with weapons HOLY SHIT...**

**yeah anyway. please review. constructive crit highly appreciated 8D**


End file.
